Disclaimer: I don't own them, I didn't create them and I don't profit from them.
Author's Note: This story is for the birthday twins from opposite sides of the world. They know who they are.
The snow had been falling for hours, effectively putting a damper on doing any further investigation of the crime scene and prohibiting Booth and Brennan from following the evidence that they'd instructed local law enforcement to send back to the Jeffersonian. For the time being, the partners were stuck in what Booth was inwardly referring to as the inner circle of Hell.
It wasn't that the Appalachians weren't beautiful this time of year. They were. His feelings of Hell were directly related to the fact that he'd recently been dumped by one Hannah Burley in favor of an old flame that she'd referred to her as her destiny and the fact that his feelings for his partner that he'd thought he'd gotten over and moved passed had reared their ugly head and he wasn't sure what, if anything, to do about it. To say that he was unpleasant to be around was an understatement. And now here he was stuck in a picturesque Norman Rockwell inspired town with said partner where he was going to have to hole up for at least a day or two in the last known accommodations since this blizzard had zoomed in and stranded them. Unless he wanted to sit outside and slowly freeze to death he was going to have to spend some quality time alone with Bones.
"For a cabin, this is certainly well apportioned." Brennan calmly smiled at her partner and noticed the slight tick of his jaw indicating that he was more than a little tense. "Don't worry, Booth, I'm sure that in a day or two the roads will be plowed and we'll be able to get back to DC." She was certainly anxious to get working on the case, but was at least glad that they would be able to instruct the squinterns remotely via a satellite web link in their absence.
Booth snorted and realized that he was going to have to make the best of the situation and there was no reason why he had to start out acting like an ass. This was Bones he was stuck with after all and the inner circle of Hell was all his, it certainly wasn't her fault that he was feeling so surly. "I'd hardly call this a cabin. More like a weekend retreat on the lake maybe." In his mind cabins evoked images of no heat or running water. This cabin wasn't large, but it had a furnace and a wood stove and a modern kitchen and bathroom and it sat right on a lake that appeared as if it would be an ideal fishing location when it was warm outside. The only thing it really lacked as far as he could see was a television and a second bedroom by the door count. Just great, it looked like he was going to be making friends with the damn couch for the duration.
"I'm just glad that there aren't any moose heads looming over us." The last thing she found appealing in rustic décor was the severed heads of wild animals stuffed and mounted so they could be displayed on a wall somewhere. Surely they were better used by the animal.
"Either Sheriff Benson's a really bad shot or his wife just won't let him have trophies." The sheriff had seemed like a real man's man, but given the feminine touches throughout the cabin, he was betting that the guy was as beat as a rug on cleaning day and he appeared to like it.
Brennan snuffed out her nose in amusement. "I'm sure he's an excellent shot." Logically, if he was a poor shot, he wouldn't have had a very long career in law enforcement and from what they'd garnered in the short time they'd interacted with him and the deputies under him, he had received a number of commendations for meritorious service.
Booth clapped his hands together and glanced over at Bones. "So, let's see what we've got in those bags of groceries." The sheriff's wife had been nice enough to go pick up a couple of days worth of food since the cabin was just outside of town and not within walking distance of either the grocery store or a restaurant. The four wheel drive on Booth's FBI issued SUV was enough to get them to the cabin, but not back to DC, especially when the highways were being closed.
She was closer to the bags that had been left on the counter and she began pulling the items out and then smirked. "It appears that we'll be enjoying spaghetti." Along with the pasta and sauce, was some French bread, a box of corn flakes, some bananas that had no doubt been grown in Central America, and a note indicating that there were a few more items tucked away in the refrigerator.
After a long day of investigating the case that had brought them all the way out here, they'd both developed quite an appetite and so working as seamlessly as they did in the field, dinner was made in very short order. Steaming plates of pasta, a nice salad, some garlic bread, and a bottle of red wine uncorked to breathe had been placed on the table. Now all they needed to do was sit down, unwind and enjoy each other's company. Something that they really hadn't had a chance to do since before they'd gone to different parts of the globe and Booth had trekked home with Hannah in his heart.
Booth eased into his chair and began pouring wine into the glasses as Bones brought in the silverware and napkins that they'd nearly forgotten. He glanced up at her and smiled, trying to cover up his inner turmoil about the feelings churning in his inner Hell. "Apparently Mrs. Benson thought of everything." And if his gut was honing in on the intentions of Mrs. Benson, he'd bet that she had thought of far more than he was planning on while he was stuck here with Bones, if the cheesecake and chocolate covered strawberries in the refrigerator were any indication.
"We should be sure to thank her." The sheriff and his wife certainly weren't obligated to offer their personal cabin or provide groceries; however, she was glad that they had. When she'd inquired at the local hotel about accommodations, she'd been informed that with the snow they were already looking for creative ways to find places for stranded travelers to stay and the best they could do was a couple of sleeping bags in the lobby. The sheriff had overhead her conversation and had insisted that he had a perfectly good cabin that wasn't being used and insisted that she and Booth take it. With nothing else to choose from, they didn't really have any choice. It had been some time since she'd spent any extended time alone with Booth that wasn't case related.
A forkful of pasta went into his mouth and a smile pulled at the corners of his lips. "Mmm, this is good." It really wasn't the best spaghetti he'd ever had in his life, but given the day, the weather, and the company, it was certainly helping to change his attitude.
"The lycopene in the tomato sauce is good for helping to prevent different types of cancers, including prostate cancer." She pushed a forkful of pasta into her own mouth and smiled back at him.
"I'm sure my prostate is just fine thank you." Leave it to Bones to bring up things that really weren't appropriate dinner conversation. He smirked as an idea formed in his mind. "Besides, it's not like I can run right out an get a manogram just to give you a little peace of mind."
"What?" She looked at him oddly. "I don't know what that means." She'd never heard of a manogram and she was quite familiar with the names of medical procedures. From the look on his face she suspected she was making it up. "There's no such thing is there?"
He snorted. "Thank God." Another forkful of pasta made its way into his mouth.
A realization dawned on Brennan and her eyebrows shot up and then she let out a snicker. "Oh, I get it, a manogram is like a mamogram but for your..."
Booth cut her off. "Let's just change the subject, okay?" Just in case she was going to say that word, he gave her one of those looks.
"Because that would definitely be unpleasant. If that were an actual procedure, you couldn't handle it." She seemed very confident and speared a bit of her salad before popping into her mouth.
He protested. "Hey, I could handle it." He was Special Agent Seeley Booth and he was no wimp.
She shook her head. "No, you couldn't."
"Yes, I could." He leaned in and pointed at her with his fork.
"It's your weak point." She knew what she was saying was completely true, otherwise, why in the world had the jock strap been invented.
"Hey, I am not weak...especially there." He had half a mind to show her just how not weak he was, that is if he had half an ounce of courage when it came to Bones. He had only recently been dumped by Hannah and he was feeling a little gun shy when it came to head strong women.